


Promises

by Star_Madison



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_Madison/pseuds/Star_Madison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Promises are meant to be kept but sometimes Bruce wonders if this will be the day that Clint unwillingly breaks one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlelostsputnik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlelostsputnik/gifts).



Bending over Bruce felt thin arms loop around his neck and hold on as he straightened, the small body of his daughter pressed into his torso her legs coming up to wrap snuggly around his waist. Dropping a kiss to her curly red hair he scanned the crowd, stifling his sigh. Clint was nowhere to be found.  
  
Risking a glance down at Natalie, he tried to figure out what to say to her. How to tell her that Daddy wasn’t there to see her recital. He had hoped Clint would return from his mission over two days ago, giving his husband time to relax and come down from the post-mission high. “I’m sorry, honey. It looks like Daddy won’t be coming,” Bruce murmured, sliding a hand through the soft red strands.  
  
Blue eyes gazed up at him, lips turning downwards at the corners, a pout starting to form on the young girl’s mouth. “Daddy _promised_.” Natalie clung to her Papa’s neck, sounding utterly betrayed.  
  
“I know, Talie. I know Daddy promised to be here but he isn’t.” Bruce hated telling her this, that a promise was broken. Adjusting his grip on her small slender body, he turned towards the hallway that lead to the backstage area needing to take Natalie to get changed. “Sometimes Daddy’s job keeps him away longer than planned.”  
  
Tucking her head under Papa’s head, curls brushing the underside of Bruce’s jaw, she continued to pout. “But Daddy promised, Papa.” A whine entered her voice, growing higher and tighter the more upset she became over the absence.  
  
“Hush, sweetheart. If he could be here, he would.” Drawing on years of practice at remaining calm, Bruce kept his tone level and composed despite the worry gnawing in his stomach. Every time Clint was overdue he worried: would today be the day he found out that his husband would not be coming home? Would he find out that he was now a widower? That his daughter had lost one of her parents. The thought terrified him and Bruce had no idea how he would cope with losing his spouse.  
  
Pushing the door open leading to the large backstage area, the scientist greeted the other parents, walking towards a corner hidden by a curtain and lowering Natalie to her feet. Slinging off the backpack Bruce unzipped it and started pulling out the leotard, tights and ballet slippers then dragged the curtain close behind him.  
  
Dropping to his knees in front of her, he helped his daughter out of her clothing and into the costume. Once she was dressed Bruce ran his fingers through the messy curls, smiling down at her and prayed once more that Clint would be there when he came out. He held his tongue, knowing better than to make anymore promises that might not be kept. “We’ll go out to eat after, okay?”  
  
“Don’t want to without Daddy.” Folding her arms across her chest, she stared up into Papa’s eyes, lower lip stuck out stubbornly. “I want Daddy.”  
  
“I know, Talie, I want him here too but sometimes he can’t.” Dropping a kiss to the top of her hair, Bruce packed her clothing away and stood. Taking hold of her hand, he lead her out of the small makeshift room and towards the rest of her class. “I need to go find my seat, sweetie. Stay with Ms. Randall, okay?” Slipping his hand free, he watched her turn and run towards her friends. Giggles floated back towards him and he smiled, turning to return back to the front of the auditorium.  
  
Automatically scanning the milling crowd, Bruce sought out his seat near the front row, a sad smile crossing his face at the empty seats. Twin sheets of paper were taped to the back of two chairs, his surname standing out against the white. Peeling them off, he dropped down into one and placed the brightly colored backpack between his feet.  
  
Until that moment he had held out hope Clint would have been waiting, sitting in the chair waiting for the recital to begin, grinning at him. Rubbing a hand over his face, Bruce exhaled, disappointment filling him. He dropped his gaze to the ring resting innocently on his finger, a symbol of where his life was now.  
  
The lights dimmed, music beginning and he raised his head, watching as several girls filed out onto the stage. All years older than Natalie, Bruce settled in to watch them, a small nugget of hope in the pit of his stomach that Clint might show up in time for their daughter’s turn.  
  
So focused on the dancing that he missed the person sliding into the chair next to him until an arm was slung across his shoulders. Instantly tensing Bruce’s head jerked to the right and spotted a worn, exhausted face staring back. Relaxing at the sight of Clint, battered and bruised sitting there, giving him a fond smile, he slipped his own arm around the other man.  
  
“Hey,” the word was lost against chapped lips. “You’re late.” Bruce felt the tension melt out of the blonde, the lips pressing into his own shifting before he found himself kissed back, pressure increasing. Tight muscles relaxed, relief filling him at having his husband there.  
  
Reluctantly easing back, blue eyes met brown, a shallow cut over one eye held close by a butterfly bandage. “I got held up.” Clint hated keeping secrets from Bruce. He wanted to tell him what happened but SHIELD ops were highly classified and he could not put the other man at risk. “Did I miss it?” Looking crushed, he had no idea how long the recital had been going on or if their little girl had her turn yet.  
  
“No.” Rubbing his thumb across the dark bruise covering one cheek, Bruce knew that the archer had not bothered stopping in medical before making his way here. Once they were home he would have to drag his lover to the tower’s medical bay for patching up. “Haven’t missed anything.”  
  
Relief ran across Clint’s face at the news and he relaxed further, leaning into the touch with a soft sigh. “Good.”  
  
Twisting back around to face forward again, Bruce dropped his hand to rest on Clint’s thigh, needing the contact. He felt his husband’s arm tighten around his shoulders and smiled, unable to deny how good it felt, having that arm draped across his shoulders.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A squeal of delight echoed in the air as a small body collided with Clint’s legs. Thin arms clutched at the man’s waist, Natalie pressing her face into his abdomen. Letting out another squeal when she was lifted into the air, she threw her arms around his neck and clung. “Daddy you came!”  
  
“I promised I would.” Clint cradled the small body to his own larger one, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Ignoring the ache of his wounds he threw an arm around Bruce’s shoulders, drawing his husband closer. The warmth thrown off by the scientist crept through the layers of cloth separating their bodies and he sighed softly.  
  
Leaning back in her daddy’s grip, Natalie giggled as she fell into sign. _“Daddy Daddy! Can we get ice cream?”_  
  
 _“Hold on, Talie. You know the rules. No ice cream until after you eat something.”_ Bruce cut in smoothly before Clint had the opportunity to respond, eyebrows knitting together as he stared down at the six year old, frowning. _“Dinner than dessert.”_  
  
 _“But Papa!”_  
  
Warmth spread through Clint as his small family signed back and forth; even years later he was touched that someone loved him enough to learn how to sign for him. Dropping a kiss to a curl covered temple he wanted to sign but was equally unwilling to put their daughter down or release his grip on Bruce. “Come on, let her have dessert first.”  
  
Heaving a sigh, Bruce leveled a stern look at the slightly taller blonde. After a moment he gave in, shaking his head. “Fine but we’ll pick up dinner on the way home, okay? I expect you to eat it, Talie, not whine for chicken nuggets and fries. You had those yesterday.”  
  
Pouting up at him, she saw the look in his eyes and let out a small whine. “But nuggets!”  
  
“Natalie.”  
  
“Daddy, Papa’s being mean!”  
  
Noticing the look Bruce was giving him, Clint knew better than to disagree with his lover. Even if he wanted to give Natalie anything she wanted. “Baby, you had nuggets yesterday. Your Papa’s right, you can’t eat them all the time.” Shushing her, he halted the tantrum in its tracks.  
  
With an inaudible whine, she dropped her head to rest on his shoulder as she was shifted to rest against her father’s hip, arms remaining looped around his neck.  
  
Turning in the direction of the door, he guided Bruce towards it, refusing to set down Natalie. It had been a long mission and he missed his family so much during the month-long mission. Basking in the warmth that was Bruce, Clint thought it was all worth it. Everything he had endured during his life lead to having this. His family.  
  



End file.
